7 Themes Blaze Set
by Chi Haku
Summary: Seven themes of Zukaang. There are lots of ways for a relationship to go. This is just some of them.


**1. **_**Even if it kills me**_

__More than once in his life, Aang had made promises to himself. Some of them were well founded, made sense, and had good logic behind them. His drive to complete these promises was the same as any other, simply the drive of making someone happy and keeping his word (and his honor). There were a few more promises that were a little more selfish than the promises he made for other people's sakes.

There was the promise to rebuild the Air Nomads, that was kind of selfish, in a way. There was the fact that he had sworn that above all else, he'd never lose Appa or Momo (that WAS selfish, putting animals above people...honestly). But Aang had only ever made one promise to himself that was so selfish is demanded a drive that just might kill him. A drive as dangerous as the person the promise was made about.

He had made the promise to himself one day, not utterly at random, while sitting "meditating" in the Air Temple he and everyone else was hiding out in. Sokka had just said something sarcastic and humorous (as per usual, he was after all, the meat and sarcasm guy (still hadn't carried out that pledge to be the veggies and straight talk fellow)), and everyone had burst into fits of giggles and laughter.

But not Zuko.

Zuko simply sat there, continuing to tend to whatever task had been assigned to him in that moment (it looked like he was weaving a basket for carrying fish or fruit in), never so much as twitching an eyebrow. Aang feigned continued meditation, but in reality, he watched Zuko from under his eyelashes, mercury eyes boring a hole into the side of the young firebender's head.

Several more jokes were cracked, a couple minor pranks pulled, and even a silly dance put on by Toph and Sokka combined, but nothing. Not a laugh, not a chuckle, not a snort, not even the hint of a smile.

It was seriously starting to bug Aang. A lot.

And that's when Aang started to notice, slowly but surely, that there were a lot of things Zuko didn't do. He didn't run out into the rain with everyone else after day had been too damn hot. He didn't indulge in childish games of hop scotch or tag. He didn't tell ghost stories around the fire (and he went to bed perfectly fine after hearing them). He didn't joke, wrestle, or generally, interact. He kept everything on a very formal, very non-intimate level.

He helped, yes. He trained, fought, hunted, ran beside them, but when it got to anything more than the comrade level, he was just out.

When Aang brought it up to him, as he had once done, the young prince got extremely nervous and fidgety, and that was when Aang understood. Zuko hadn't grown up with siblings, even though he had Azula, they were more like rivals, and he hadn't grown up in a community. He had grown up as Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation, meant to take over and rule everything with an iron fist. It honestly didn't occur to him to do anything with anyone else in such a…childish manner. He wasn't going to stop them, that wasn't his right, but he wasn't going to join in either.

Zuko was like a wild horse, one of those beautiful stallions that lived in the greatest prairies of the Earth Kingdom that refused to be tamed. But sixteen years of nonstop (metaphorical) training, whipping, breaking in, had finally just broken him. Zuko was bound, even now to the lifestyle he had once led, to the rules enforced on him by those he hated. It was in fact, a miracle that Zuko had even had the will to join them.

One day Aang couldn't take it anymore. If there was one thing he hated, it was caged animals, especially beautiful ones with so much life and potential, and continuing our earlier metaphor, Zuko was one of the most beautiful creatures Aang had ever seen. Both as human, and as animal.

When Aang had confronted Zuko, it had started out a conversation, then a yelling match, and then suddenly Aang had him pinned to the ground and was kissing him with every bit of emotion he held in him. Zuko at first had struggled, and in retrospect Aang was sure he had been scared and very, very, VERY confused (the Avatar who was just yelling at you ten seconds ago has got his tongue down your throat, you'd be confused too), but that hadn't stopped Aang in the slightest.

What scared Aang, was a five minute (felt like five minutes anyway) period, where Zuko just gave up. Didn't move, didn't resist, just let Aang lay kisses across his lips and neck and jaw without the slightest hint of emotion. Aang had been terrified for a few moments that he had only just made everything worse, when one of his smallest kisses was returned. Barely. But returned.

To this day Zuko argues that it was entirely subconscious.

At this Aang paused however, pulled back and stared at Zuko, whose eyes had gone pained and glassy.

"You too?" he mumbled. "You just…want to use me too?"

Aang was half furious at all those who the "too" implied, all those who had used HIS Zuko in whatever way they had. Aang really didn't have the self control necessary to think about it. The other half of him felt broken hearted that that was the first thing Zuko assumed.

"No Zuko…No." he mumbled, raising a hand to pet the prince's hair. "Never. I would never."

He pressed a light kiss to Zuko's scarred temple.

"I'm not going to break you." he whispered. "I swear, even if it kills me, I'm going to fix you."

Aang felt Zuko shiver lightly, before he mumbled, almost to himself;

"I'll keep you to that promise…"

And he has, and Aang hasn't minded one little bit.

* * *

><p><strong>2. <strong>_**Eyes Squeezed Shut**_

Fifth setting. Flip the switch.

Scream.

"Now I'm sure that hurts brother dearest, so, tell me what I want to know, and the pain goes away. Tell me, where is Aang Kazekama?"

Zuko's tongue ran along his lips, tasting the coppery flavor that he knew was his blood. More of the sticky red ran from a gash on the side of his head, and another smaller cut on his cheek. There were probably more open wounds, bleeding nonstop, that he just couldn't see right now. Or feel for that matter.

Electricity had the habit of numbing the body.

The only thing he could really feel were the four pinpricks in his arm, two to each. What they were would sicken most people, but Zuko knew this was just his sister's favorite form of torture. They were four needles, which shot high voltage electricity through him every time she flipped the switch. It'd happened five times so far.

Zuko counted himself lucky that he'd been her personal punching bag growing up. Punching bag used lightly, more like personal torture victim. He'd been through this before. His body could handle it.

A hand curled into his hair and wrenched his head up. His golden eyes, still bright even half lidded with the remnants of pain, were met by sickly yellow.

"WELL?" Azula snarled.

Zuko grinned.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

He was released and she turned away.

Fourth setting. Flip the switch.

Scream.

"Are we done testing my patience?"

Zuko had not intended to join the rebellion. He had never intended to go against his father, or his father's cause, or anything else. He'd been…well not happy, but he'd been okay living the way he had, where he had, doing what he had, which was absolutely nothing. Not for not against, it was the closest he could get to safety.

Zuko traveled, mostly around his father's kingdom, but sometimes just outside the boundaries, when he thought he could risk it. He'd been just inside the Earth Kingdom when he'd met Aang.

Aang, who was tall and lively and always smiling. Aang who opened his eyes to what his father was doing to the world and why it had to be stopped. Aang who took him by the hand and dragged him into the light and held him there until he stopped struggling to get back to the dark he knew.

Aang who had become his entire world, who he couldn't love more, and who couldn't love him anymore either.

Third setting. Flip the switch.

Scream.

"I'm getting TIRED of this brother!"

Mai stood in one corner of the room. She was biting her bottom lip hard, staring at him with those dark eyes he knew could be bright with emotion when they wanted to be, but usually weren't. Her arms were crossed and she just stood there, staring at him, glaring almost, waiting for him to look back.

They'd known each other for years. When they had been younger, they'd been inseparable in their own demented kind of way. At this point, Mai and he could read one another like books, words weren't even necessary. Which was why now, as their eyes connected, an entire conversation took place between them without their lips moving at all.

'Tell Azula what you know!' her eyes said. 'Let this be over, let it stop!'

Zuko blinked languidly, that bored blink he used whenever it meant he really didn't give a damn what was being said. Though in this case, it was a plain, blank, NO.

'Why not?' her eyes screamed as Azula tapped her foot expectantly. 'Why won't you give in?'

He had loved her once. Once she had been the only caring he had known. Mai had been his world, he would have gladly spilled his every secret for her. But that was then. And this…this was what was going on now. This was his world now. A world where…

His eyes glowed softly, like they used to when he was looking at her.

'Because I love him.' they said. 'Because I love him more than anything. And because I don't need you anymore.'

A world where she was no longer needed. A world where he could stand on his own.

Ty Lee looked completely confused when Mai turned away, trying to hide her tears.

Second setting. Flip the switch.

Scream.

"Now Zuko…."

His sister was snarling and this time he was sure he felt hair leave his scalp when she wrenched his head up.

"Don't test me any further brother. I think you remember the first setting from when I got this machine don't you? You remember what I could do with it…"

Oh he remembered. He remembered all too well screaming at the top of his lungs bloody goddamn murder until his uncle had to come down and bodily drag him from the chair.

"Where. Is. Aang. Kazekama?"

Zuko opened his mouth, and he saw glee and hope fill his sister's eyes. It was with sick, sick glee that he crushed it by saying;

"I don't think I've said this lately but; Fuck you you heartless bitch."

Every time that switch was flipped, Zuko would think of his lover. Think of his Aang, holding him close, cooing in his ear, touching him gently and making him see the world clearer every day. He'd think of every promise Aang had made, every vow they'd kept, how easy it was to trust him now, when he had trusted no one before.

And so Zuko would sit there and take his sister's torture, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for his love, his savoir, to come for him again.

Fire setting. Flip the switch.

* * *

><p><em><strong>3. I Won't Give Up<strong>_

Aang Kazekama was not happy with his current situation, and if anyone in the rebellion besides his closest three friends approached him, he might just kill them. Or at least horribly injure them. Possibly maim. It was hard to tell.

Aang was a lot like a wild animal in a cage right now. Pacing around, quietly glaring at anyone who came to close, but otherwise seeming completely harmless. But if you came into the cage and he didn't know you, you were as good as dinner because he was PISSED.

He hadn't liked this idea from the beginning when Zuko suggested it. He'd liked it even less when Sokka agreed that it was the best plan of action. Yet he'd reluctantly agreed when he was stared down by everyone on the council and reminded sternly by his lover that personal feelings COULDN'T get in the way here.

That didn't mean that Aang didn't beg Zuko not to go from the moment he stepped into their shared bedroom later that night, not stopping until the next morning when he had departed. The only time the pleas to stay had stopped was when they were making love, not sure if Zuko was going to make it out of this, though neither of them would admit it.

Zuko had left and Aang had had to watch him go, and was suddenly taken back to a few months after they had first met maybe two years ago now. Zuko had been planning to leave back to the Fire Kingdom, saying he'd been away for too long and they would suspect. Aang had been completely shattered over this news, and instead of following logic, had followed his heart, and told Zuko that he was a leader of the rebellion.

Two years later, here he was, still a leader of the rebellion, watching his lover, his best friend, his second in command, his world, walk off towards what could only be certain doom.

It had only been a day, and tomorrow was it. Tomorrow, while his lover was no doubt frustrating the living shit out of his sister, making her lose her mind in fury as he evaded her every torture, they would strike. While she was distracted and Zuko's father with her they hoped, their first attack would be launched, as well as the rescue of Zuko.

But that was a whole other day and Aang didn't know if he could handle knowing his precious lover, already so fragile, was in constant pain that whole time.

Still, Zuko had made him a promise. A promise never to bend to his sister's will, not to go down on one knee. He would never bow to them ever again.

And so, Aang thought, pausing to glare determinedly out the window in the direction of the Fire Kingdom, As long as you do not give up my love; neither will I.

* * *

><p><em><strong>4. Passion<strong>_

Each element had a different emotion that could easily be connected to it.

Earth was determination. Strong, bold, rushing forward without much thought. Aang was a lot like this, jumping into battles without thinking about the consequences most often. Katara scolded him enough for it and now that Toph and Zuko were around, so did they.

Water was safety. That constant flow that meant all was well, calming and easy, laid back but there no matter what. Aang knew this emotion also. People often said he made them feel safe, and in return, his friends made him feel the same. Without them he felt open and alone, vulnerable, but with them all was well.

Air was hope, plain and simple. It was light and constant yet not there at all unless you really looked hard sometimes. It was valuable, and it was hard to take away from someone. Aang would know. Air was Aang, and Aang was air. No one could argue this point.

What Aang did not know, was fire. And with fire, its emotion; passion.

Aang thought, before actually learning the true meaning of it, he knew what passion was. He thought passion was how hard he defended his friends. Though passion was the heat that rose in his cheeks around that one person, thought passion was the warmth he felt only in that boy's company, at the sight of his blush at the silliest things Aang had said.

Aang hadn't known what passion REALLY was at that time. It took his first lesson in firebending, a stop along the way home from the Masters, to really know what passion was.

Passion was indeed the flush on Zuko's cheeks, but not the soft pink of embarrassment, but the flaming rose red of desire. Passion was the way Zuko's back arched up towards him, hands feeling, lips meshing, bodies pressing closer, closer, never close enough. Passion was every sound Zuko made, every cry of his name from kiss bruised lips, every heated gaze and lusty laugh.

Fire was passion. Passion was fire. Zuko was fire. And Zuko was Aang's passion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>5. Don't Procrastinate<strong>_

Aang glared at his computer screen, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. There was a word document open on the computer, three pages long, halfway through the third. While Aang was usually rather confident in his abilities to write papers, specifically on the subject of art history, as was this paper, he felt like he was writing nothing but gibberish. Sometimes being in college was great, sometimes it gnawed at his soul and spit out the pieces.

Currently it was gnawing on his soul and spitting out the pieces while laughing about his ineptitude to do anything right.

Luckily, at that moment the door opened and a soft "I'm home!" could be heard from the front door. Aang was up out of his chair in seconds, darting down the hall to the kitchen, where the sounds of groceries being unloaded could be heard. He slipped into the kitchen to find none other than his lover, back to him and wearing one of Aang's favorite shirts, meaning it was about a size too big for him.

There was something about seeing his more slender lover in his clothes that made Aang's blood boil, though he wasn't quite sure what it was. It didn't matter in the slightest however as he snuck up behind him and slid his arms about his waist.

"Welcome home Zuko." he purred in his ear, nuzzling his neck lovingly.

Zuko's hands stopped trying to unpack groceries, pausing on top of a box of pasta and a carton of apple juice. His head tilted back to lay on Aang's shoulder, a gesture which the taller appreciated as it gave him great access to his lover's neck.

"I was only gone a day." Zuko murmured.

"Yeah but it was a reeeeally long day and I was reeeeally lonely."

Zuko chuckled, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Aang's jaw.

"Well I'm home."

"Yes, yes you are." his hands slid down to Zuko's hips and found their way under his shirt. "And I am about to take full an total advantage, so kindly move to the couch because I don't think I'm going to let you go up a flight of stairs to get to bed."

Zuko laughed, but it came out breathy, and he slid out of Aang's arms. The tattooed male caught sight of his love's teasing smirk before he was out of the room and down the hall. Aang quickly followed, and they reached the living room at near enough the same time that Aang could push Zuko down on the couch and straddle him.

Zuko didn't bother resisting, in fact pulling Aang down into a heated kiss, arms sliding around his neck. Aang took full advantage of this, parting Zuko's lips and letting his tongue slide inside to map his mouth again. One could say Aang was rather possessive, and any extended amount of time Zuko spent away from him usually ended in his lover getting molested, just to remind him whose he was. Not that he minded much, really, but it was something to keep in mind.

As it were Aang wasted no time in sliding his hands under Zuko's shirt and hiking it up his chest, giving him full access to the pretty pale skin he loved. He pulled back only long enough to gaze down at his lover, flushed now, with Aang's shirt raised up to his collarbone, laying there waiting for Aang to do whatever he wanted. The silver eyed male smiled, leaning down to lay soft kisses along Zuko's abdomen.

"Have I told you how gorgeous you are?" he murmured.

Zuko smiled softly, raising a hand to run his fingers lightly along Aang's tattoo.

"Every day." he responded in an equally soft voice. "At least twice a day."

"Mm…I can't help it." Aang's kisses trailed up his chest to his collar, lips gently pressing wherever they so wanted. "You're so amazing, I have to tell you all the time…"

Zuko laughed breathlessly, which turned into a soft moan as Aang's tongue flicked out to run over his skin. Aang purred, quite content to be able to taste his lover again, and savoring the moment to take his time to run lips and tongue over every patch of skin he wanted. He wasn't specifically trying to target any spots, just lavishing attention on his lover's skin.

Zuko moaned again, letting his head fall back against the couch, allowing Aang to do whatever he wanted to him. His fingers were stroking the back of Aang's neck along his tattoo, gently egging his lover on. Not that he required much prompting, Aang could spend all day like this, just worshipping Zuko's skin and cooing loving words to him.

They lay like that for a time, neither really doing much besides enjoying the feeling of the other's body. Aang tugged on the hem of the shirt Zuko was wearing, a sign he wanted to take things further. There were many different levels of intimacy between them. Just pushing the shirt up showed Aang wanted to give Zuko some not necessarily PG-13 attention. Shirt off meant he really wanted to pleasure his lover. Pants and underwear followed about the same pattern.

Zuko sat up to pull off the shirt, and happened to glance in the direction of the computer. His eyes instantly narrowed.

"Aang, is that your art history assignment?"Aang froze.

"…Uh, yes?"

"Aang you got that over a week ago."

"It's not due for another three days!" he said pleadingly, already knowing where this conversation was going to go.

Zuko shook his head, letting the shirt fall back to cover his chest.

"You know the rules. All assignments done, then we can enjoy ourselves. I'm not letting you fail any of your classes."

Aang felt a lot like crying as Zuko swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood up, padding back into the kitchen, no doubt to finish putting away the groceries. Aang fell face first into the couch with a loud groan.

"Note to self…." he muttered. "Never procrastinate again."

* * *

><p><em><strong>6. Goal<strong>_

Aang didn't think he'd ever been happier to have his chat icon appear in front of the open document on his desktop. He opened chat instantly, only to pout when he saw Katara's name instead of Zuko's. He opened the chat anyway.

'Katara says: Hey, what're you up to?'

'Aang says: Nothing.'

'Katara says: Define nothing.'

'Aang says: Sitting at home, working on my art final, wishing I was dead.'

'Katara says: Aw, bummer. ): Where's Hottie McHotstuff?'

'Aang says: Mai took Zuko out clubbing.'

'Katara says: Without you?'

'Aang says: Without me.'

'Katara says: Isn't that dangerous?'

'Aang says: Nah. Mai's super protective, you know that. And besides, the only thing to really worry about anymore are rabid Jets.'

'Katara says: Mm. Don't think that's a problem.'

'Aang says: How would you know?'

'Aang says: …'

'Aang says: Katara are you messaging from your mobile?'

'Katara says: No.'

'Aang says: Katara where are you?'

'Katara says: Home.'

'Aang says: Call me.'

'Katara says: Can't, it's really loud where I am.'

'Aang says: I thought you said you were home.'

'Katara says: I am! Sokka's next door with Suki!'

'Aang says: Sokka and Suki are out clubbing with Mai and Zuko.'

'Katara says: …'

'Aang says: Katara are you at the club?'

'Katara says: Nooo…'

'Aang says: Katara are you at the club watching my boyfriend?'

'Katara says: Nope.'

'Aang says: …..ARE YOU AT THE CLUB WATCHING MY BOYFRIEND GET HIT ON BY JET?'

'Katara says: Gotta go! (:'

(Katara has left the chat)

'Aang says: Katara!'

'Aang says: KATARA!'

'Aang says: Oh that's it.'

About twenty minutes later, art major Aang Kazekama could be found dirty dancing with his boyfriend in a downtown club. Jet was somewhere off to the side, caught between glaring and salivating as the couple danced shamelessly. Mai and Katara were standing by the bar, sipping drinks.

"So, did you anticipate Aang's imminent arrival to snarl at Jet, grab Zuko, kiss him senseless and proceed to claim ownership thereof him via dance?" Mai asked.

Katara took a sip of her drink.

"That was the goal."

* * *

><p><em><strong>7. Swan Songs<strong>_

_Swan song; Meaning a final, best performance_

Zuko's father had not liked him for a very long time. He was not sure when the man began to dislike him, started to stare down at him like he was less than a bug on the bottom of his shoe, he just knew it had been a very, very long time. He had taught Zuko's sister to do the same, and it left his mother and his uncle as the only family members who didn't hate him.

Then his mother died in a car accident, and all he had left was his uncle.

When he was younger, Zuko had not been sure why his father hated him so much. His father was a rich, powerful cello player, his sister was better at him at the cello, violin, viola and basically every other string instrument. He always did what he was told and followed the rules set down for him, he didn't even complain when he was punished.

But still, Ozai hated him.

It was odd, that later in life, this would stop bothering him as much. Mainly when he met Aang Kazekama. Aang was a violin player, a very good one at that, and he took pride in the sleek, vintage violin he had gotten from his guardian Gyatso. It was Aang who had opened Zuko's eyes to the fact that he wasn't useless, and the first person who had sat him down in front of a piano.

It was that moment that changed Zuko's life.

Aang went from best friend to lover much quicker than Zuko would have anticipated, if he would have been expecting it at all. As it were he most certainly was not expecting it, but once he found himself in the situation, he was quite happy. Aang's friends adored him, and he was quite fond of them as well, and Aang was the most devoted, loving boyfriend in the world.

And then that talent scout had heard them playing. Zuko had not realized that one could literally overnight become a star, but apparently a certain piano and violin playing pair could. Zuko had not realized he was a natural with the piano, but according to several music journals and online blogs, he was. He had almost collapsed at the sheer number of requests to play at certain openings and events that appeared on his doorstep the next day.

Since, life had been looking up for Zuko, and he couldn't have been happier. Ozai's opinion of him stopped mattering, Azula couldn't very well taunt him anymore because he was richer than her at this point, and he had Aang. He had the best lover in the world, who supported him no matter what. Oh yes.

Life was looking very good.

No one had anticipated the cancer though. It struck without warning and one moment Ozai was the same, rich, stuck up, snobbish man…And the next he was frail looking, old and weak, in a hospital bed. Zuko didn't know what frightened him more, the fact that he suddenly realized how terrifying the thought of father dying was; or the fact that he'd be dead within six months.

Aang, who after this many years of being Zuko's lover, held no small amount of hatred for his father. And while his first instinct was to tell Zuko to leave the man to rot, as he had left him, he kept it to himself. Zuko would never be able to live with himself if that's how his father died, no matter how much the man hated him. It was one of those things only people close to Zuko knew. He was very much an emotionally based person, and very forgiving, a dangerous combination coming from his family.

Zuko had expected his uncle and sister to appear at the hospital, when he finally got home from his tour around America, but when he entered the hospital room, he was alone. At first he was tempted to turn around and leave, yet he walked forward instead, and sat down beside his father's sickbed. For a long while, neither said anything, until finally his father spoke.

"So you played Carnegie Hall did you?"

Zuko nodded his head.

"Yes sir." he said softly.

"How old were you?"

"It was three months before I turned twenty, sir." It had been a six month tour.

"And how many people showed up?"

"They over sold tickets and I had to play a double performance to make up for it. They were sold out either way."

"And that boy?"

"Aang played perfectly as always."

He received no sign of approval or disapproval, but his father did not make a snide remark. That was close enough to a "good job" for Zuko, and he tried not to let it show how good that felt.

Zuko would return every day for the next three months of his father's life. They didn't always speak, and sometimes Zuko just spent hours sitting there quietly looking over sheet music or writing, as was his second talent apparently. Occasionally his father would look over at his music and scoff, saying something like "You're going to play that piece of crap? (This) piece would be much better…" and that was closest his father had ever come to helping him.

Azula and Iroh never showed up.

It was some time in late August, early September, right when the leaves were changing, that Ozai took a turn for the worst. He was put on a breathing mask, and while no one would say it, he was on his last legs. Zuko still kept coming.

On November 19th, Zuko sat quietly in his father's room, wondering how such a powerful man had gone to this.

"Zu…ko…"

His head snapped up and he sat up straight in his chair.

"Yes father?" he said. "What is it?"

"Get me….my cello…"

Zuko blinked, not sure he had heard correctly, then nodded his head. He got up and grabbed his coat, leaving the hospital for his car. The drive to his father's home and back took less time than it should have, and Zuko thanked god he was good at avoiding police detection as he broke several speeding laws.

Having handled Phoenix, his father's cello, before, he had no trouble getting it up to his room, where he leaned it carefully against the wall.

"You can't leave bed father." he reminded gently, and when his father glared he quirked a small smile. "But I think there's a compromise."

Ten minutes later had Ozai sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his cello, thin fingers, sallow skinned with sickness, holding the bow expertly. Zuko sat back down in his chair, pulling one knee up to his chest like he used to when he was a child. He made not a sound as his father tuned his instrument, only watching, waiting for…

The bow touched the string and Zuko's eyes slid shut, doing as his father had so long ago taught him and listening to the music. Ozai played like Zuko had never heard him do so before. The most lilting, bittersweet melody of apologies and thanks that he would never get to say. Zuko could tell, as the man played, which parts were addressed to whom, just by the way the notes flowed. The sweet, sad one that nearly made him cry was for his mother. The strong, deep for his uncle. The short, choppy and sporadic for his sister. And the soft, sweet and smooth for him.

Later that night, Zuko returned home, to be greeted by the smell of garlic and tomatoes. Upon entering the kitchen he found Aang cooking an Italian styled dinner, humming to himself what sounded like the sonata he had written three nights ago.

He turned to face Zuko, and immediately stopped everything he was doing, brow furrowing at the sight of his lover looking as though he'd just seen a ghost.

"Love, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping over the short distance between them easily and pulling Zuko close.

Zuko didn't resist, sliding into his arms and leaning his head against his taller lover's shoulder. He was silent for a long moment before saying;

"My father played the cello today, I went and got Phoenix for him from the house…"

Aang listened, not entirely following, but lending an ear like he always did.

"Afterwards he thanked me and…" Zuko swallowed thickly. "He told me he was…really, really proud of me."

Hours later, in the earliest moments of morning, as Zuko and Aang laid in bed, sleeping peacefully, the phone rang. Zuko blinked his eyes open, sitting up to reach over and grab for it where it sat on the bedside table. Aang mumbled something in his sleep, arms tightening around Zuko's waist and the dark haired man gave him an amused smile.

He managed to grab the phone and settle back against Aang's chest again, which his lover seemed to enjoy as he nuzzled his shoulder with a contented sigh. Pressing the talk button, he held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" he murmured softly so as not to wake his lover.

"Hello, is this Zuko Hihoshi?"

"This is."

"Mr. Hihoshi, I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but your father…"

Ozai Hihoshi played his swan song, his best, and very last piece of music, just hours before he died, to the only person to come see him whilst he died. The son the he did not, perhaps, hate, as much as he thought he did.

* * *

><strong>AN:**

1- It was the first thing to come to mind when I read the theme... It kind of just wrote itself, believe it or not.

2- First of all, you can totally blame this on Jade285 (, or cerise_otaku on LJ). This is ENTIRELY her fault. I swear to you I had no ill intentions when I started writing this, as I had no idea what to write. And what does she say when I tell her the theme? "Pain!" 8DDD So yes. Blame her.

3- THIS one is Sugu's fault. She said it would be good to follow up the last one with another perspective, so here's Aang's view on it.

4- I don't even know. I just don't even KNOW.

5- (YOU KNOW YOU WANNA COMMENT ON THIS ONE KRATOS.) The idea just kinda struck me out of the blue. xD I know, I'm so mean. But Zuko strikes me as the type who would totally be concerned about grades, and Aang's just like, Nyeh, whatever. I'm passing.

6- You can blame this one on Sugu too. xD She has Aang and Zuko going out clubbing in her fanfic (to be found on her under the same name)... And this just sort of popped into my head and demanded to be written. 8'D God I love you Aang.

7- I read the definition of "swan song" and due to the fact that I lack the ability to kill Zuko or Aang...here. Let's kill Ozai. ...WHY IS THERE ALL THIS ANGST? I DON'T LIKE ALL THIS ANGST.

Wow I started this back when I first started writing Zukaang. That first theme is the first piece of Zukaang I ever wrote ever.

It's not that bad, actually.

Anyway, I was looking around my stuff for something I had yet to finish, because I need to take breaks in between Toxic Aphrodisiac otherwise my head explodes. (Not kidding, so much emotional trauma at once gets to me.)

I found this and decided to finish it up, because I only had one theme done. It was quite fun, actually, and I still stand by my love of themes. They're something to do when your brain needs a boost.

Enjoy as usual, all comments and favs and whatnot are much loved~ 8D 


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